


You know you fucked up when even Zura is telling you to stop

by grievingcain



Category: Gintama
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 21:31:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10999398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grievingcain/pseuds/grievingcain
Summary: Takasugi is a delinquent and Zura is very tired of his shit.





	You know you fucked up when even Zura is telling you to stop

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I can write other Gintama ships besides BanTaka. lol This has been sitting here for months (perhaps a year?) and I only managed to finish it a few days ago, so here it is. My friend told me I should post it so I'll trust her.
> 
> It's unbeated, so sorry for any mistakes.

Zura walked into Takasugi’s flat without knocking on the door. He had the key, after all. Made his own copy without Takasugi’s permission, but the boy didn’t complain. He didn’t mind Zura entering his house, even when he wasn’t there. Zura wasn’t a threat.

Zura closed the door behind him and took a look around the place. The lights were out and the room was dark, the only light coming from the broken window, from which was also coming a cold breeze. He turned the light on and noticed a moving lump on the worn-out couch. He didn’t have to take too many steps to realize what it was. Takasugi was sleeping soundly on the couch, almost in fetal position. Looking further Zura could see that his face – and probably other parts of his body too – was bruised, and he was stinking of sweat and blood. Zura sighed and turned to the opposite direction, aiming to put the groceries he had brought on the counter.

Standing in front of the counter, he looked around again. Takasugi was still asleep on the couch, and Zura pondered if he should throw a blanket on top of him so he would be able to relax his body, or if he should wake him up. Decided on the second option, it was already past 10 A.M.

Zura approached the couch again and kicked it lightly. Takasugi didn’t move a muscle. He tried poking at the boy’s face, but everything he got from that was a hand weakly slapping his own before going back to its original position. So he poked again, this time right on the big purple bruise on Takasugi’s cheek. The boy groaned and slowly started to open his only good eye, the one that wasn’t covered by a white eyepatch.

“Get up, it’s late,” Zura said.

Takasugi stared at Zura as if wondering if he was dreaming, and slowly started to move, stretching himself on the couch, groaning due to the pain those movements caused to his whole wounded body. Zura stepped away from him to get to start working on what he had come to do: lunch.

Takasugi’s apartment was small, a single room worked as living room and kitchen, so Zura could still see and hear Takasugi from where he was now standing near the counter and the stove.

“Please, go take a shower. You look like shit. And smell like it too,” Zura said. He wasn’t trying to sound authoritarian, but he was ready to drag Takasugi to the shower himself if he needed to.

He received another groan in response. Takasugi was sitting on the couch, a permanent grimace on his face while he tried to stand up. His whole body was aching. When he finally got up, he looked at Zura, and now could see him more clearly, even though he still struggled to keep his eye open.

“Ugh… Why are you here?”

“You’ve got someone here to cook for you and you’re gonna complain?”

He only received another groan in response.

Takasugi watched Zura as he took the groceries out of the plastic bags and left them on the counter. He quickly glanced at the groceries, seeing many vegetables, some industrialized sauce, rice, and meat, and then his attention went back to Zura. He had his long ebony hair tied on a horsetail, like he used to have when he was a child, with one strand of hair falling down each side of his face. That hairstyle really did give him a more feminine look – well, more than usual. His outfit was simple, skinny jeans, a white shirt, and a pink jacket with the sleeves rolled up, and some accessories on his wrists. He looked pretty, Takasugi thought; really pretty.

“What are you still doing here, I told you to go shower,” Zura said, still not looking at him.

“What the hell are you, my mom?”

“God, no. I wouldn’t have such a shitty brat as my son.”

Takasugi didn’t protest. His body was hurting too much and he was still too tired to start giving a fuck about Zura’s provocations. He tried to avoid groaning more while moving, but Zura could still hear him. He didn’t say anything though, he occupied himself in separating the ingredients to make curry.

Takasugi walked to the bathroom, closing the door but not locking it. He never locked the doors in his own house, and he wouldn’t start doing it only because Zura was there.

xxx

He didn’t take long in the shower. After washing his body, he took a good look at himself in the mirror behind the door, and noticed the many cuts and bruises on it. The fight – if that could be called a fight – last night had been one of the worst of his life. Those guys just came out of nowhere and dragged him to an alley. The beating was violent, and he couldn’t do anything about it. He was losing in numbers, and the first thing the guys did when grabbed him was take his wooden sword. To top that, he was completely alone. His “friends” weren’t with him. Everything was going so wrong he thought he would end up dead, but hell, at that point he would welcome death with a smile on his face so he was sure he wouldn’t be that lucky.

He woke up a few hours later, alone in that alley. He walked to his flat and fell asleep again on the couch in the moment his body touched it. He was too tired and in too much pain to care about showering or calling someone – or an ambulance.

Takasugi put a towel around his waist and left the bathroom. He looked at his right and could see Zura concentrated on cutting the vegetables for the lunch – which he guessed that would be curry – and turned to the other side, entering his small bedroom to put some clean clothes and new eyepatch on.

After dressing only a pair of sweatpants, he went back to the living room. He walked closer to Zura, and the other finally turned his face away from the food to stare at him.

“You look worse than I thought,” he said. His deadpan face looked the same as always as he analyzed Takasugi’s body, but Takasugi could notice the concern in his eyes.

“Thanks,” Takasugi replied.

He couldn’t bring himself to get mad because he knew he looked awful. He was sure he had at least one or two broken ribs and probably two fingers of his left hand as well. Considering this and all the other bruises, he knew it could have been worse. Those guys probably took some pity on him for being alone. That thought disgusted him, he hated to be underestimated. But what disgusted him the most was the fact that he knew that if the men had given him all of them, he would probably be dead by now.

“I’ll help you. Just let me put all this in the pan first. Can you pick a first aid kit?”

Takasugi just nodded and left the room once again.

When he was back, he sat down on the couch again, waiting for Zura to finish what he was doing. He looked at Zura carefully mixing the vegetables and the sauce in the pan, and turning on the stove to start cooking them. Soon enough Zura closed the pan and turned to Takasugi, walking in his direction.

He sat by Takasugi’s side, and stole the kit from his hands, leaving it aside on the couch. He stared at Takasugi’s body and analyzed the injuries. He had a big cut on his chest, thankfully not deep enough to cause a serious damage, but deep enough to demand extra care; there were many purple bruises spread on his stomach and chest, and an especially a big one with the size of a fist on his left ribs, and when Zura extended his hand to touch it, Takasugi withdrew from his touch. It was enough for Zura to understand that the internal damage was worse than the external, but he still had to touch it to know how serious it was, how many ribs Takasugi had broken.

He extended his hand again, and this time Takasugi didn’t move. But he did bit his own bottom lip when Zura gently pressed against the purple skin, trying to feel his bones. For what he knew of anatomy – and it wasn’t that much – he would say Takasugi had two broken ribs. He would try to convince the boy to go to the hospital later, but for now he would have to do something himself.

He took another look and saw many minor cuts and bruises on the boy’s upper arms, then asked him to turn his back, so he could examine it. Takasugi did it without asking anything. Zura pressed against the bigger bruises to feel the boy’s bones, and one of the times Takasugi wasn’t able to fully suppress a groan, but thankfully he didn’t feel anything else broken. Most of his injuries were superficial.

Takasugi turned again, and extended his left hand so Zura could examine his broken ring and pinky fingers. They were swollen red, and Takasugi couldn’t move them. Zura sighed, almost wishing that the broken fingers were on the boy’s right hand, so he wouldn’t be able to get into fights for a longer time.

Zura picked the first aid kit, and took what he would need. A medicine, patches, tape, and bandages. He decided to start with the boy’s back, and told him to turn his back again.

“These are horrible, what the hell happened?” he asked while gently started spreading medicine on the darker bruises.

“Street fight.”

“I wasn’t born yesterday, Takasugi. If it had been a simple street fight you wouldn’t be this injured.”

“They were strong.”

“You were alone.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were. You’re the leader of your so-called ‘gang’. The others would give their lives to protect you. If you weren’t alone and are this injured then I assume I have to buy a new formal outfit and flowers for Bansai’s funeral.”

Takasugi grimaced, but didn’t say anything else. He couldn’t deny that. He was strong and knew how to fight, he could beat the shit out of many people if he had his wooden sword and wasn’t taken in such an unfair situation. But if he was disarmed he usually could still count on his followers, and his two best friends. Bansai and Matako were strong. Bansai was physically stronger than him and equally skilled in sword fights; and Matako was the daughter of a Yakuza boss. Nobody wanted to become her enemy, if not for the fear of her ability with weapons, the fear of being targeted by her father.

“What exactly happened?” Zura asked again, breaking the short silence.

“Some guys dragged me to an alley and beat the shit out of me until I dropped unconscious. I woke up some time later, came back home and fell asleep on the couch.”

“Who were them?”

“Who knows? Probably some people I’ve beaten in the past.”

“Ghosts from your past are finally coming to haunt you.”

“Tch. I will find them and I will get my revenge. And my sword back.”

“Why don’t you use this chance to stop being a half-assed delinquent and put your life back on track?”

“You are not my mother, Zura.”

“Yeah. _I_ haven’t given up on you yet. And it’s not Zura, it’s Katsura.”

He didn’t reply. Zura asked for him to turn again, and a rather uncomfortable silence dominated the room while Zura started to delicately bandage Takasugi’s broken fingers. The concern was more apparent in his eyes now, but only for those who were already used to Zura’s usual deadpan face. Takasugi knew him since they were children, he could read him better than anyone, or so he thought.

“You really should stop,” Zura broke the silence again.

“I have my pride.”

“Do you really? Because considering how you look I think those guys took your pride with them together with your sword.”

“Why don’t you shut up?”

“I am serious, Takasugi. Soon all the shit you do won’t be taken as child play anymore. You’re gonna be arrested, and I don’t think your parents are gonna bail you out.”

“Hah,” he scoffed. “They would be happy if that happened, they wouldn’t need to give me money anymore.”

Zura sighed again. He finished bandaging Takasugi’s fingers and now looked at his torso. The bruises there were the ugliest, and the big cut could get infected if it wasn’t properly treated. He decided to save that for last, and started to take care of the other wounds.

“If you tried, I’m sure they would accept you back. You just need to–”

“Swallow my pride?”

“What’s left of it.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Why is it so difficult for you to take your head out of your ass?”

“Why do you even care?”

“I ask myself that every day. Why do I care? Everything you’ve ever given to me was headaches.”

There it was, the uncomfortable silence again. Zura was being harsher than usual, but Takasugi knew he couldn’t counter attack his words. They were all true.

Takasugi really wondered what kept Zura interested in him, but he couldn’t find an answer for that. They were childhood friends, yes, and now their relationship was something very weird and hard to name; he would say “friends with benefits” if someone asked, but he didn’t know for sure if that was a correct term. But he still questioned why. Why does Zura care about him? Zura visits him frequently, takes care of his wounds when needed, brings food for him, even cooks for him. He’s the one who keeps his house clean, because if it depended on Takasugi that place would look like a pigsty. Takasugi just didn’t care if things were in order.

Takasugi took a deep breath and waited for Zura to break the silence again, which didn’t take too long.

“This one will need stitches,” he said pointing to the big cut on Takasugi’s chest.

“I’ll grab needle and thread then,” he said, already getting up from the couch.

“I’m not gonna stitch you. I’m not a doctor and I’ve never stitched anyone.”

“It can’t be that hard, just do as you would if you were sewing.”

“Takasugi, I can’t. It can get infected if you don’t treat it properly. You should go to a hospital.”

“Hell no.”

“Why not?”

“I hate hospitals.”

Takasugi said that and got up from the couch, walking to his bedroom. Zura sighed and told him to bring alcohol too, and while he waited for the boy to be back he went and checked the pan where the curry was cooking over low heat. He made sure he added everything that was needed to the sauce, and then checked the crockpot – which was his, he brought to Takasugi’s house some weeks ago – and saw the rice was ready.

Zura heard Takasugi’s voice calling him and turned to see the boy back on the couch. The cut on his chest was very visible, and it seemed to have started to bleed a little again. Zura washed his hands on the sink with water and soap, and then walked closer to Takasugi, already trying to mentalize everything he would need to do in order to properly take care of that wound.

“Lay down, please,” he said.

Takasugi obliged, and in an instant he was lying back on the worn out couch. Zura took the small bottle of alcohol and the small container in which he assumed there were needle and thread from Takasugi’s hands. He looked at the boy, who was with his eyes fixed on him and soon looked away.

“Okay, I think I have to clean your wound first.”

“Do whatever you think’s best.”

“If something goes wrong I don’t wanna be blamed.”

“Yeah, I know. Hurry up with that, I’m hungry.”

Zura left the container by his side, and picked the first aid kit again. He grabbed a piece of gauze from there, and proceeded to drench it with alcohol. He cleaned his own hands with it and discarded the gauze directly on the floor. He grabbed another piece, and wetted it again. He got closer to the boy’s body, he could see Takasugi’s chest moving in the rhythm of his breathing, and the big cut that went from his left ribs until his pectoral right beside his left nipple.

Zura touched the wound with the wet gauze and lightly rubbed against the skin. The clotted blood in it started to come out, and change the gauze’s color to a light red. He noticed Takasugi biting his bottom lip again, feeling his wound burning due to the contact with alcohol, but he didn’t stop, repeating the process twice more until he thought the wound was clean enough.

The next step was to clean the needle. He thought about doing it with the alcohol, but he decided fire would be better. Not wanting to go to the stove, he asked Takasugi for a lighter, which the boy promptly took off his sweatpants’ pocket and gave to him. He lighted it and Zura put the needle to the fire’s encounter, hoping to sterilize it.

Takasugi glared at him the whole time, observing his actions, and feeling both happy and very guilty inside for having Zura being so careful and attentive with everything he did for him. Takasugi wouldn’t admit due to his so-called pride, but he loved to have Zura around. He loved to be cared for. And he was ashamed to admit even to himself that the main reason he didn’t want to go to the hospital was simply because he wanted Zura to take care of him. Not anyone else, only Zura. One of the very few people he fully trusted.

While lost in his thoughts, Takasugi didn’t pay so much attention as Zura put the thread in the needle, and was surprised when he felt the first sting of the needle tearing through his already sensitive skin.

“Ouch!” he yelled, more high-pitched than he intended to, while jumping on the couch.

“I can’t do this if you move,” Zura said with a straight face.

“That hurts!”

“If you had agreed to go to the hospital they’d give you anesthesia before stitching you.”

“Tch. I can endure a little pain. I endured much worse last night.”

“Then keep quiet so I can finish this quickly.”

And so he did. Takasugi didn’t say a word during the whole process. He bit his bottom lip and endured the feeling of the needle drilling through his skin again and again, until the wound was closed the best way possible. He kept staring at Zura, but the other seemed to not notice his gaze, he was deeply concentrated onto what he was doing, giving his best not to hurt Takasugi even more instead of helping him. When he was done stitching, Takasugi tried to get up but Zura pressed his hand to the boy’s chest, keeping him laid back on the couch. Zura grabbed another piece of gauze and some tape to properly patch the wound and avoid it opening again.

“Done,” he said.

Zura proceeded to take everything he left on the floor, carry the first aid kit back to the bathroom – together with the container with the needles because he didn’t know where to put them – and throw the discarded gauzes and tape in the trash bin.

When he was back to the room, Takasugi was still sitting on the couch, seemingly lost in his own thoughts once again.

Zura walked to the stove to finish cooking. With his back turned to Takasugi, he spoke.

“They are worried about you too, you know.”

“Who?”

“Gintoki and Tatsuma.”

“Gintoki is only worried about the 20 bucks I owe him,” he mocked.

“You know that’s not true.”

The smirk disappeared from Takasugi’s face. He hadn’t been so close to Gintoki and Tatsuma in the past months since he mostly saw them at school and he wasn’t at school very often, but he knew they were his friends. Even if they were also the most annoying guys he had ever met and he didn’t understand how Zura could spend so much time with them. But again, Zura also spent a lot of time with _him_ and that was just as much of a challenge.

He decided to just change the subject and ask if the curry was ready.

Zura nodded, and both went to fill their plates with food and then go back to the couch to eat since Takasugi didn’t have a table.

They ate without saying a word for a few minutes before once again Zura broke the silence.

“I won’t stop coming to see you if you start to take better care of yourself, you know.”

Takasugi swallowed the piece of veggie he had inside his mouth and froze for a second. He felt his face getting warmer, and hoped Zura wouldn’t notice the redness on his skin thanks to the bruises.

He was happy to hear that, he really was. But like hell he would let Zura know that.

“I’m not worried about that, idiot,” he replied and then took another bite of food.

Zura smiled to himself. Takasugi was the easiest person to read he knew.

“You’re a terrible liar, Takasugi.”

This time the boy almost coughed and spat curry everywhere.

“Bite me!”

“Maybe another time when I’m sure I’ll be able to do it without risking breaking more of your bones,” he smirked.

And there was Zura with the witty responses. Takasugi didn’t reply he just stared down at his plate while he continued to eat.

They finished eating in silence, and Zura took both plates back to the kitchen, leaving them at the sink to be washed later. He picked his phone to look at the time, seeing he’d have to leave soon to feed his pet.

He approached the couch again and kneeled down in front of Takasugi, supporting his arms on the boy’s knees. Takasugi stared at him with a confused face.

“Listen, Takasugi,” Zura started. “You’re the biggest idiot I know—”

“Hey—”

“So I will explain it to you loud and clear: you are important to me.”

Takasugi eyes widened at Zura’s words, but he didn’t say anything. Zura continued.

“That’s why I want you to stop being so reckless. I worry about you because I care about you a lot, as I always have.”

Takasugi opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He didn’t know what to say. If he was in good health, this would probably be one of the rare occasions in which he’d let his real feelings show by either pulling Zura to his lap or jumping on his, but he had the impression that if he moved in any weird way he’d break another bone.

Takasugi clenched his fists. Hesitating a little, he finally spoke.

“Will you,” he paused for a few seconds before completing, “go to the hospital with me?”

Zura smiled. A big, bright smile, that Takasugi rarely had the opportunity to see since they started puberty, and he felt his heart melting.

“Sure. I go with you.”

In a swift move, Zura put himself back on his feet and gave Takasugi a quick kiss on the lips.

“I have to go home to feed Elizabeth, so I’ll come back in an hour and we can go.”

Takasugi grimaced.

“Do you still keep that fucking ugly bird in your house?”

“Don’t talk about her like that. She’s a beautiful Bantam duck.”

“Why don’t you have a normal pet like a dog or a cat. Who the hell has a duck in the middle of the city?”

“We’re not having this conversation again.”

Takasugi made a face that looked like a pout while Zura made his way to the door, ready to leave.

“See you later, Takasugi.”

Zura left without waiting for a response.

Takasugi was left alone on the couch with a weird mix of feelings and thoughts going through his head.

He couldn’t just change the way he lived out of nowhere. He wouldn’t suddenly become a good boy just because Zura asked him to – he had been asking for a while now. But maybe he could be more careful. He could stop getting into useless fights and provoking people for no reason besides proving he was stronger. He could learn the difference between courage and stupidity.

He took a deep breath and groaned when he felt a pang of pain on his ribs, and got up to go to his room to get dressed.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if I really liked tbh, but it must bc bc I reread it a thousand times... Well, thank you very much for reading!


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